


Harpy Cancer

by oxymora (oxymoron)



Category: In Other Lands - Sarah Rees Brennan
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2019-02-16 05:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13047456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxymoron/pseuds/oxymora
Summary: There was no chance in hell that they would reach the merpeople today in this weather.





	Harpy Cancer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [followsrabbit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/followsrabbit/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide, followsrabbit!

There was no chance in hell that they would reach the merpeople today in this weather. In the twilit woods, the rain seemed like its own entity, and its constant roaring sounded spiteful to Elliot. He was pretty sure it didn’t rain like this on the other side of the wall. But then, he had never actually spent much time outside – let alone in a marshy, boggy forest – before he’d come to the Borderlands.

Elliot could just about make out Serene and Golden ahead in the distance: Golden astride, Serene afoot, leading her horse by the reins. When Luke had argued that the boggy ground was too treacherous for them to keep riding their horses and thus increasing the danger of a sprain, Serene had hummed. “One of us should keep riding to keep an eye out for shelter or danger. Golden has the best eyesight. And naturally, elves are much lighter than humans. My horse can take his saddle bags.”

Serene could spot a sparrow from a kilometer’s distance. Elliot knew this because she liked to point it out. Serene really had gotten a lot more sneaky over the course of her fledgling relationship with Golden. Elliot approved.

Elliot himself was huddled under Luke’s wing, Luke’s feathers protecting him from the rain, Luke’s arm wrapped around his shoulder to provide warmth, Luke’s side pressed against him comfortably. It was admittedly awkward to walk like this, especially when you were trying to also lead two weary horses and keeping up with elves. Except… Luke was warm. Really warm. He was solid and dependable and when Elliot’s foot had slipped in the mud earlier, Luke steadied him, and then he had _beamed_ , as if leading Elliot through a marsh had been on the top of his list of Summer Plans. Elliot shuffled closer.

They didn’t talk. They hadn’t talked much, ever since they had left the training camp. Serene and Golden seemed to be talking all the time, filling the air with nervous and breathless chatter, and for once in his life, Elliot was happy to leave conversation to others. Serene had remarked that it was cute how Luke brought out his maidenly shyness, and Elliot hadn’t had the heart to correct her. He wasn’t shy. He just had _no idea_ how to talk to Luke anymore, now that they were, apparently, in a relationship. Elliot had said he was serious about them – serious as harpy cancer – and he had meant that, but his modus operandi of talking to Luke was insulting him. It didn’t seem appropriate anymore. He was trying to find other ways to talk to Luke, but the words didn’t come easy yet. For the first time in his life, Elliot’s vocabulary was lacking.

Surprisingly, I didn’t matter much in their day-to-day routine. Silence had settled comfortably into the spaces that Elliot had used to fill with banter and careless insults. They didn’t need a lot of active communication to get through their daily tasks. Luke would unroll Elliot’s bedroll on the right side of their tent without asking. Elliot knew how Luke liked his coffee. When you cut the time Elliot usually took complaining about Luke, the inequities of life on the road, and Luke, they managed to get through their entire morning routine and tidy up the camp site in the time it took Golden and Serene to awkwardly navigate around preparing breakfast together. When you stripped away the talk, it became more obvious how the two of them _fit_ , how their years of rubbing against each other had carved both of them into pieces that effortlessly slotted together in daily interaction. Elliot knew it wouldn’t last: it wasn’t in his nature. But it fit them for now.

It was different at night. All of their easy familiarity was lost when the tent flaps closed. Elliot would give a lot to purge his mind of the last three nights stuck in a tent with Luke, who didn’t quite manage to meet his eyes and was trying hard to keep to his own space in a tent constructed in the spirit of military efficiency that said that sharing body heat was economical and that wings were not standard issue, trying not to listen to the sounds coming from the other tent (because, to add insult to injury, apparently Golden and Serene had no problems navigating _this_ part of their relationship).

Elliot had promised himself to be careful with Luke. Luke was a virgin and he was self-conscious about his wings and Elliot knew that Luke attached a lot of meaning to romantic intimacy and Elliot was not going to pressure him. He’d let Luke make the first move. Elliot could be patient (and if he repeated the thought as a chant in his head, that might drive the memory of Luke, in his cabin, shirtless, pressed against Elliot, wings unfurled around them both, out of his mind long enough to fall asleep).

Right now though, they were comfortable. (Well. Comfortable for being caught in a rain storm. Elliot was suffering from Borderland Syndrome. It was a pity that he'd never be able to write a treatise about the symptoms, because people from either side of the wall would think he was out of his mind. Story of his life.) Earlier, when the rain had started, Elliot had moved towards Luke, who had unfurled his wing in unspoken invitation. He’d, slipped under it, pressed himself against Luke’s warmth, and elbowed him in the ribs. “Hey loser. Move over.”

“That doesn’t make sense. If I move over, you’re no longer under my wing.”

“Shut up, Sunborn.”

And Luke had beamed, and tucked in his head, and that had been that.

 

“There’s a light ahead!” Golden called, and Elliot prayed that it meant that it meant a friendly inn, and not a nest of bandits. Although Serene and Luke could mostly be depended on to take care of bandits, and maybe they had some dinner leftovers that would make for a warm, if immorally sourced, meal… Elliot sighed the sigh of a man reconciled to all fates, and trudged on.

It was an inn, though not a particularly friendly one. The owner seemed less than happy to host two elves and a half-harpy, and after Elliot had mused rather loudly about their sense of business, treating perfectly good customers this poorly, they didn’t seem overly fond of Elliot, either. The rooms were clean, though, and warm, with a healthy fire in the hearth. Small mercies, Elliot supposed.

He was wet, and tired, so naturally, the first thing he did was strip off his drenched clothes. There was a sudden crash behind him. When he turned, Luke was firmly facing the door, the back of his neck red. There was a broken vase on the floor. It had probably been standing on the small side table that was just about in the vicinity of a harpy’s wing, should they decide to turn very quickly away from Elliot. Elliot should have become a detective.

“Luke?”

“I’m… You’re… Maybe we should have gotten a third room.”

Luke’s shoulders were so tense.

Elliot couldn’t take it anymore; he had no idea how to talk to Luke, but obviously, he had no idea how to be silent, either.

“Seriously? You’ve seen me naked more often than I can remember. We are sharing a tent. If you need to go into a fit of maidenly shyness, _please_ , suit yourself, but choose a time when I’m less miserable. I’m not going to ravish you!”

Luke’s shoulders drooped, all the tension rushing out of him, leaving him deflated.

“I know you won’t, Elliot.”

And now he’d done it. He’d snapped at Luke, and made it all worse, and.. Except. Oh.

Elliot carefully stepped out of the wet breeches now pooled at his feet and moved closer. Tentatively, he set a hand between Luke’s shoulder blades, at the point where the wings sprouted. They felt strong and soft under his hand. He could feel the muscles shift as Luke shuffled his wings.

“Unless you want to be ravished?”

Luke whirled around, his wing knocking Elliot’s arm away. “Don’t make fun of me, Elliot!”

“Hey,” Elliot said, as gently as he knew how. He reached up to stroke from Luke’s sodden curls to the point where they dripped onto his clavicle. Luke was still wearing his wet tunic and leather harness. Elliot could appreciate how the tunic's fabric had turned clingy and slightly translucent.  “Hey, I’m not. You know I’m not. I’m here. I told you, right? Harpy cancer. You don’t get rid of me, Sunborn. I’m a known ravisher.”

Luke lunged for him.

It was awkward and messy. Luke’s teeth clacked against Elliot’s lower lip and he could taste blood in the kiss. There were squelching sounds coming from where the wet leather harness was pressed against Elliot’s chest. Luke’s fingers on his bare back were freezing cold. Elliot grabbed his wet hair, corrected the angle, and kissed back with all he had.

“You’re an idiot,” he said lovingly into the space between their mouths. “I told you, I want you.”

“Well, you didn’t _do_ anything!”

“I was trying to be considerate! Respect your boundaries. I was waiting for you to make the next move!”

Luke’s wings flared up again, pushing Elliot backwards until he was pressed up against the bed.

“I wasn’t… I don’t know how. I’m _not good_ at this!”

Elliot went down willingly, pulling Luke along by his belt buckle.

“Looks to me like you’re doing alright, soldier.” He grinned. “Now take this off.”

Luke huffed, but he started to unfasten the buckles of his leather harness. Elliot helped; the material was stiff with water and cold. Together, they peeled off Luke’s wet tunic. It got tangled in the wings, and Elliot pushed Luke belly-down into the mattress to free them. He took his time, preening Luke’s wings, smoothing the tips, carefully massaging the joints.

Luke Sunborn was beautiful. “You’re beautiful,” Elliot said. Elliot loved his wings. “I love your wings,” he said. Maybe Elliot’s vocabulary was just fine.

Under his fingers, the wings trembled as Luke’s breath hitched. “You really think so?”

“You know you are.” Elliot pressed a kiss to Luke’s spine. “Don’t fish for compliments.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Luke’s voice was muffled against the mattress.

“Hmm.” Elliot smoothed his hands out from the center of Luke’s back, as far as he could reach toward the tips of Luke’s wings. In the warmth of the room, the feathers had almost dried, leaving them soft and fluffy. “They’re perfect.”

Luke relaxed under his hands. Then he flipped them. Elliot thought darkly that dating warriors had its downsides. They were sneaky. And fast. And very strong. Trained to pin you down and hold you there effortlessly with arms and body weight. Come to think of it, there were definite upsides, too.

Luke kissed him again. He was getting very good at it. Luke had always been a fast learner when it came to physical tasks.

“Am I doing this right?” Luke asked. He was slowly and methodically rocking his lower body against Elliot’s, and Elliot’s body was growing very interested.

“Right? Right, yes! You’re doing everything right. Unless you don’t think it’s right. It should feel right to you. Otherwise it’s wrong. That would be wrong. Right?”

Luke cut him off.

“Just tell me what to do, Elliot.”

Elliot stopped. He could feel his grin unfurl.He probably looked insane. He didn’t care, because Luke obviously didn’t.

“Oh, _please_ , say that again. You have no idea how long I’ve dreamed of this day. My thirteen-year-old self is weeping with joy.” He stopped. “Actually, that sounds horribly wrong in context. Please forget I said that.”

Luke closed his eyes and groaned. Elliot took the chance to turn them again and mouth along his exposed throat. By the time he’d reached Luke’s clavicle, the groan had shifted an octave and morphed into a whine. Elliot continued downwards.

“Don’t do anything right now. Relax,” he said against the skin right above Luke’s navel. Which made Luke tense up and grab his head with both hands.

“Or you could pull my hair. That’s fine, too.”

Luke blushed right down to where Elliot was now tracing the trail of golden hairs that ran down from his navel, but he relaxed his grip. Slightly. Elliot put both hands on Luke’s breeches and looked up.

“Is this okay?”

Luke was still blushing, but he also nodded furiously. Elliot pulled down the breeches and loincloth. It was a little hard because Luke was very hard, but he managed. He pressed a brief kiss to the tip of Luke’s cock, and then he sucked as much of it into his mouth as he could. When Luke gasped and bucked under him, Elliot hummed and steadied his hips with his hands. The best approach to deal with Luke’s nerves was not to give him time to have them.

Luke was gasping his name over and over, wings twitching against the sheets in sync with the sound. He had gripped Elliot’s hair again, wich made it hard to keep up the rhythm Elliot had set, but it didn’t matter. Luke came in a matter of minutes, and without any warning. Elliot swallowed and wiped his mouth with a corner of the sheet. He moved up to stroke Luke’s hair tenderly, to curl his hand under the nape of his neck and trace the place where his wings emerged from under his shoulders in soothing motions.

“Hey.” He nudged Luke’s nose with his own. “Alright?”

“Yeah. That was, um, it was good.”

“Eloquent as always, Sunborn,” Elliot said lightly. It did the trick. Luke huffed out a small laugh and shifted them until they were both on their sides, Luke’s wing curled protectively over both of them.

“Thank you,” he said, sweet and honest, and Elliot had to kiss him. The kiss was sweet, too, slow and honeyed, and hardly interrupted by Luke’s yawn. Elliot nipped at the corner of his mouth.

“We should sleep.”

Luke yawned again. “What about you?”

“It’s alright,” Elliot said, and prayed that it would be soon. “You’re tired. I’m tired. Tomorrow is another day, Rhett.”

“That’s not my name,” Luke said out of a deep-ingrained habit to contradict Elliot, but it already sounded sleep-slurred. Elliot smiled and turned to burrow closer into Luke’s broad chest.

 

He fell asleep like that, Luke tucked safely against his back, Luke’s wing covering them both under a soft blanket of down, the rain outside a comforting, constant patter. Tomorrow, they’d reach the mermaids.


End file.
